


apathy caused by comparison of the world's actual state to an ideal

by orphan_account



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, ill add more characters as I go, neighbours!au, work/studyabroad!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 17:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: with the only physical barrier a corridor between them, sana and yousef walk down the path of self discovery, confrontation with the past, acceptance and love.[abandoned]





	apathy caused by comparison of the world's actual state to an ideal

**Isak Valtersen**

Safe flight Sanasol! See you soon  
12:34

**Mama**

Call me once you have arrived  
We are so proud of you  
13:02

**Olafiaklinikken**

Noora: Miss you guys already❤️  
14:16

Eva: Let us know if you meet any hot German boys!  
;)  
14:20

Vilde: Or girls!  
14:22

**Chris Berg**

Sorry girl flight got delayed  
Meet you at the apartment later  
14:53

You have the address right?  
15:09

* * *

 

Texts trickled in one by one as Sana switched her phone off airplane mode, each punctuated by a short ping notification melding into the bustle of the erratic airport goers rushing to catch their flights and send off loved ones. Sighing upon sighting the apologetic message sent by Chris almost an hour ago, she shuffled herself and luggage towards an empty row of chairs lining the wall against the arrivals terminal, pulling up their conversation and scrolling upwards past mindless chatter accompanied by late night gossip exchanges to locate the address of the apartment Chris had deemed perfect following her last trip to Germany.

Back then, their plans to attend school and work abroad were simple wishful thinking, naive seeds of hopefulness planted after one year of German classes at Nissen together and study turned procrastination sessions full of talks regarding dreams and a future that felt, but wasn't far away at all, coming to fruition following Sana's internship offer at Heidelberg University's affiliated hospital and Chris's acceptance to the institution’s PhD program for financial economics.

Now, with the life she had grown accustomed to living packed in the confines of a large suitcase and what her father had dubbed 'Sana's travel pack', characterized by the multitude of signatures gracing its surface, the previously bare cream now littered with messy handwriting after Vilde's Sharpie scrawled well wishes along the strap invited others to do the same until every inch was covered in an array of rainbow coloured permanent marker messages, strapped securely and weighing heavily across her back, she maneuvered through the busy crowd, arriving at an exit where several unreserved taxis awaited. She approached one where the driver, an elderly man with a hand in his pocket and the other leisurely tapping at a cigarette that wouldn't last past a couple of drags, spotted Sana and immediately reached out to assist loading her luggage, allowing her to sink into the back seat of the cab and finally let out the ragged breath she had been afraid to release lest she collapse from sheer exhaustion.

"First time Germany  _ja_?" the driver asked in broken English as he climbed in.

"Yes, it is," Sana replied back mindlessly, switching to German automatically as she pulled out her cell, "Hold on just a minute I'll find the address for you." She shifted her gaze up from her phone screen at the rearview mirror, smiling amusedly at the man's surprised expression.

"Wow! Your German is good," he exclaimed, asking curiously, "Where are you from?"

"Norway." he aahed in understanding, typing the address into the vehicle's GPS as Sana recited it out loud.

"What brings you here? I imagine it's not for pleasure given the size of your bags."

"Internship," she said, "At the hospital near the place I gave you." further supplying.

"Ah yes, the university one?" he clarified, Sana confirming with a nod.

A comfortable silence settled in, Sana occasionally glancing out the window to peer at the scenery as it passed by in blurs of nameless stores and faceless pedestrians. Once in awhile, her driver would point out a landmark or recommend a particular restaurant, statements she would absentmindedly acknowledge with a mumble or an "I see.", diverting her attention back to her phone in case Chris texted back. Slowing to a stop at the traffic light mere minutes from her new home, the man peered into his overhead mirror, directing his next query a tad louder and much more seriously than his friendly chatter beforehand.

"Are you finding everything okay here?" Sana sat up straighter at his tone.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he continued, pausing slightly as he resumed driving, eventually turning into apartment entrance, "You haven't had any trouble since you landed?"

Trouble, or at least the kind he was alluding to, implied some sort of fault on the receiver's end. What would one call it if they found themselves on the receiving end because of what their clothing symbolized, the foreign words on their tongues not translating to a language comprehensible to the people around them, or the caramel of their skin too brown to warrant human on the pre approved colour scheme dictating people's worth? Trouble that was chased away along with everything that comprised you to begin with, the destruction of tradition, language and culture until your insides felt as white as the canvas you'd been stripped down to in order to fit the cookie cutter shapes of the people surrounding you. When you slowly became immune to the less than subtle glares and looks of pity bordering on disgust thrown your way, not because they ceased existing, but because they were just easier to ignore, was trouble a term that could encompass the self hatred and lack of confidence accumulated in her heart adequately?

 _Natural selection_ , she supposed bitterly.

"Well," Sana started, "So far besides the staff on the plane and the airport security personnel I asked for directions, you're the only person I've talked to since getting here."

"So I guess I can conclude 100% of German people are nice to newcomers," she grinned at his hearty laugh before amending, "For now, anyway, until someone comes along and ruins the statistic." he sobered at that, pulling into the roundabout outside the building. He turned around to face her directly, looking at her sadly before speaking again.

"I only ask because my daughter in law, she's also Muslim," he said, "And I see the looks she gets when she's outside sometimes,"

"This country has overcome a lot, but it can't seem to learn from its past mistakes."

"Neither can the rest of the world for that matter." Sana replied gently, reassuring the worried man with a small smile and grateful nod. He smiled back, stepping outside of the car and holding her door open, swiftly retrieving her suitcase from the trunk and placing it in front of her.

"Good luck Miss," he said sincerely, tipping his hat as he walked towards the taxi's front. "Enjoy your time here."

"Thank you." she called out, waving at the outstretched hand hanging carelessly outside the window of the car, seamlessly blending into the busy streets, transforming into another dot of whirling blue decorating the Thursday evening rush hour traffic. Autumn in Germany was not unlike the cool crisp of Norwegian September, the dried leaves crunching underneath her boots and the wheels of luggage trailing behind Sana as she struggled to get inside the building without having to take several trips back and forth. Unearthing the keys to the front door and finally, finally arriving inside the elevator following the concierge’s denied offer at assistance with her bags and a near run in with a hyperactive toddler plus his apologetic father, she pressed the button marked ‘17’ and almost immediately after the one indicating closed doors, eager to get home and call her mother before napping.

Then, the door a finger’s breadth away from shutting, found itself wedged between a large hand forcing it open.

"Sorry," a man who looked about her age apologized sheepishly as he entered, "Didn't realize someone was already in here." he paused to reach out, releasing the paisley bandana previously holding his hair back to use the fabric to pat his face, clothes and condition suggesting the conclusion of an intense workout.

She gave him a tight lipped smile, the only one she could manage to give without lashing out. Not that she would have wanted to.

He was tall, taller than her at least, body all hard lines except for the round of his face beaming at her through wispy curls falling effortlessly on both sides of his forehead, slightly matted from the sweat glistening, a thin film coating the hollow of his neck and remnants on his cheek that his bandana was unable to capture.

_Wow._

"Wow," he wondered out loud, "Looks like this was meant to be." 

“Huh?” Sana asked quizzically, her daze replaced with confusion. He laughed softly, gesturing at the number lit up in the columns of buttons she stood in front of.

“Same floor?”

 _What do I say without sounding stupid? Should I even say anything? What if he’s just being polite and doesn’t really expect me to respond seriously?_  The thoughts and possibilities swirled in her head, intermingling with the doubt she experienced every time she met someone new, the worst case scenario making itself evident before she could muster a proper reply.

“Oh.” she said shortly, effectively preventing any potential conversation from blossoming. The man looked away awkwardly, occasionally pausing to wipe his brow or shuffle his feet. Sana could sense he was still looking at her, even as she stared straight ahead willing the elevator to miraculously open, occasionally opening his mouth to speak, always thinking better of it and shutting it once more.

A resounding ding signaled the elevator’s opening, much to Sana’s relief, only for her to realize it meant she still had to drag herself and her stuff to the apartment before she could step foot inside it. Groaning internally, she bent to pick up the bag at her feet, now in the hands of the stranger who stood outside the elevator, waiting for her patiently.

“Wha-”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” he cut her off.

“You don’t have to…” Sana trailed off, equal parts desperate to refuse and accept his offer.

“Seriously,” he said, pivoting the bag on its wheels and leading her down the hallway, “It’s no problem.”

They continued, stopping at the door labeled ‘1788’. Sana checked her phone disbelievingly, confirming that it was indeed the apartment number Chris had texted.

_How did he know?_

" _See you around_ ," he declared in Norwegian, raising two fingers in a mock salute, grinning at Sana who stood slack jawed, and turning his key in the locked door directly across from her own, "Sana Bakkoush."

And as abruptly as he appeared he was gone, disappearing before she had the chance to thank him or ask how he knew which place was hers and wait, did he just call her by name?

_What the hell?_

Sana stepped over the threshold, shaking her head and forgetting momentarily about the strange encounter with the equally strange man, or, strange neighbour now, she surmised. Setting the suitcase aside and throwing her backpack on the couch the previous occupants had graciously left behind, she flopped onto the cushion beside it and turned on her data , typing a quick message to the group chat and dialling her mom before dozing off.

Her phone pinged, the language learning application she downloaded back when she first started learning German sending a notification that seemed as constant in her life now as any of the texts from her friends or family did.

  
18:46

 **German Word of the Day!**                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  now  
Your Daily Word is: _Anfang_

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of notes:
> 
> 1\. i'm taking a creative writing class this upcoming fall semester to complete my writing requirement for my uni degree, which is my excuse to write this as practice beforehand.
> 
> 2\. this fic is completely different from what i've written previously for two reasons, one because it's literally just taking characters from skam (and characters that aren't even teenagers anymore in the timeline of this) to create my own story, and two it actually has a plot unlike my other stuff lmao
> 
> 3\. AU is a whole new thing for me, i have no idea how i'm going about doing this besides the basic plot i have outlined in my head. this is a sana/yousef story but first and foremost, its SANA's story. with the world we live in today, it's so important that stories like her are told, and i'm using this as a platform to tell it.
> 
> 4\. why Germany? chris and sana's relationship is probably my favourite on the show and since they met in German class.... hahah just kidding. I have my reasons and they'll hopefully become apparent as this goes on.
> 
> 5\. that being said i'm not familiar with the european post secondary education system, let alone the german, so when google can't come in clutch please inform me if i've made any drastic mistakes that can't be ignored. it's a learning process! all thoughts, criticism and corrections are welcomed and much appreciated


End file.
